Star Winds

The main business dealt with, the king relaxed and took a deep draught of the baron’s excellent wine. “It is a great trial to me that I am able to count on so little from the dukedom of Koss,” he remarked. “You were the only man to presume to assume responsibility there, I recall. I see that you are not installed in the Aegis, however.”

“I have a plan at work,” Matello rumbled. “But I am still waiting for it to come to fruition.”

“Indeed?” The king leaned forward. “What is this plan?”

Matello hesitated, not liking to disclose his scheme. “I have succeeded in getting a man inside the Aegis,” he said.

“And you are hoping he will open it up for you?”

“Yes, liege-lord.”

“Not a perfect plan of operations,” the king commented after a moment’s thought. “Though getting a man inside at all is an achievement of sorts, I suppose.”

“The young man I am using is resourceful. I believe he will find a way eventually.”

“And how long has he been in there now?”

“Several months,” Matello admitted.

The king laughed, to Matello’s discomfiture. “Evidently, then, your plot has come unstuck. Either your conspirator has been discovered or he prefers the Duke of Koss’s service to yours. Tell me: is it true that you have the builder of the Aegis as your guest?”

“It is, liege-lord. You know the story of how he was cheated by the old duke, I suppose?”

“Yes. Quite an amusing tale. I would like to meet this beast.”

“Certainly, liege-lord. We will go to him directly.”

The king nodded, drained his goblet, and stood up. Matello rose after him, and guided him through the castle’s passages to the underground hall where Flammarion rested. “The creature’s life here is rather a dull one,” he said as they walked. “Most of his time he spends in a tank which keeps him fairly comfortable. It must be a peculiar world he comes from … I give him the freedom of the castle, too, and he sometimes roams around it. No amount of tedium or discomfort seems to bother him, I might say. He’ll wait it out for centuries to get what he regards as his due.”

“A most persistent creditor.”

“It’s the nature of his race.”

They entered the underground hall, where Matello ushered his royal guest toward the open iron tank at the far end. “Flammarion!” he called out. “Present yourself to our great king, Lutheron the Third, monarch of all Maralia!”

After a moment or two a shape rose up from the tank, showering fine yellow powder in all directions. The king watched while the alien flowed over the side of the trough and came closer, its flat cape-like body warping over the floor in waving motions. Finally it halted, raised its front end and managed a grotesque bow.

“Your Majesty.”

The king turned to Matello. “What an odd odor he has.”

“That’s mainly from the powder … It’s made up to his own recipe.”

Matello fetched a chair for the king. Lutheron sank into it, spreading his light cloak. He gazed at Flammarion with interest.

“Does that tail of yours have a sting?”

Flammarion flexed the pointed tail a little. “No, Your Majesty, it is vestigial, though the primitive forebear of my species did have a sting.”

“Strange how a life form seems to lose its natural weapons when it acquires a thinking brain. Well, so it was you who built the Duke of Koss his Aegis, eh?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And I understand you did it alone?”

“That is so.”

“It seems a mighty labor for one small individual. How did you manage it, without a work force?”

“I have my methods, Your Majesty. These, of course, are my secrets. I employ one method to create adamant. I use another method to shape it as it forms. For this I use a device which I first build with my own tentacles, and it is this device which makes possible the erection of so large a structure.”

“And how long did this enterprise take you?”

“Building the Aegis for the Duke of Koss entailed three years of continuous effort on my part. Alas, I wait and wait to receive my due reward.”

“No one’s plans can be guaranteed to go right,” said the king absently. He reflected, then said: “I am glad finally to have met you. Maralia could use more of these constructions, provided they remain in the right hands. I will commission you to build one for me.” Flammarion’s tone became doleful. “Oh, I will build no more for humans. Never, never again!”

The king bristled angrily at this. “You dare to refuse me, alien? I can torture cooperation out of you! What do you say now?”

“You cannot torture me,” Flammarion responded, still in his aggrieved voice. “I am incapable of feeling physical pain. I suffer emotionally only. I suffer when I am cheated, gulled, or made to labor in vain. Therefore, never again will I work for humans.”

“Hmph.” The king fell back in his chair, disgruntled but convinced. “This creature interests me, Sir Goth,” he said. “Allow me to take him off your hands. No doubt he will find my own court a more amusing place than this draughty castle.”

“Liege-lord …” Matello frowned and bit his lip, not liking this turn of events at all.